


Stretches Are Nonsense

by WaldosAkimbo



Series: Quick and Dirty Good Omens Crack or Drabbles [16]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27511348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaldosAkimbo/pseuds/WaldosAkimbo
Summary: Just a little story about some good ol' pegging with Shadwell and Madame Tracy
Relationships: Sergeant Shadwell/Madame Tracy (Good Omens)
Series: Quick and Dirty Good Omens Crack or Drabbles [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789003
Comments: 5
Kudos: 5





	Stretches Are Nonsense

**Author's Note:**

> You're just lucky Sandalphon didn't make it round to their house this time like he did in my last Shadwell and Madame Tracy story.

“Move your leg.”

“I _am_ movin’ m’leg!” Shadwell gripped his thigh and pulled up, grunting when he jammed his knee up into his gut.

“You haven’t been doing your stretches then.”

“I _have_.”

Except, of course, he hadn’t. Shadwell did naught but two stretches, maybe, first they were shown to him, and he waved a hand when he was reminded to try them again after the doctor said it would improve the pain under his foot and that crick in his lower back. Stretches. Snap a man in half on a rubber mat, charge ‘em fifty, and send them on their way. That’s how it’s rightfully done. None of this _stretching_ and _breathing_ and _green tea smoothie_ nonsense. S’posed to rejuvenate them and keep them living longer. Bollocks on living longer!

“Deep breath,” Madame Tracy reminded him, and Shadwell did indeed inhale, just so he could complain more, when he felt the cold tip press against his skin and he made an undignified _yelp_ in response. “Didn’t even get an inch in yet,” Madame Tracy admonished.

“’S not that.” Shadwell breathed out and tightened his hold on his leg. “It’s cold is all.”

“Is it?” She sounded surprised and the bed creaked as she sat back. Then it bounced a little and she squeaked with surprise. “Oh, so it is,” she said and laughed. He did so much like her laugh. It was caramel sweet, it was, and made him warm all over.

“Don’t laugh, ye jezebel!” Course, habits die hard, and he may love something and say another every single day for the rest of his bollocks-longer-living-long-life.

“Oh, hush.”

There was another squelch from the bottle on the bedding and Shadwell took that as que enough to sit up and see what she was up to. Slow going, as always, as he didn’t bloody _stretch_. But just as he got up and felt something wonderful pop in the middle of his back, he felt her slim hands skate up his side and give it a pat.

“Go on and do us a child’s pose,” she said, her voice soft and breathy, tempting as a crumpet.

“Is that the one where you hug your knees?” he asked, discouraged at the thought.

“No, you just lay yourself down, just like before. That’s right,” she said, guiding him back to the bed. He’d never say, except all the times he forgot he’d never say and then said them anyways, usually over breakfast of egg whites – yuck – and condensed milk from a can and – double yuck – halved grapefruit. But he’d never say he liked her guiding him. He liked her telling him what to do. He may be Sergeant, unofficially retired, and he may have been barking orders to exactly no one for decades, but it was nice having someone know where he should be, and guide him along with the gentle yet experienced hand of someone who had seen it all and didn’t give much a shit about it neither, except the parts she liked. Which were a lot.

She also wasn’t above conning people into doing things, Shadwell included, and it was the staple of their relationship to argue semantics and morality, when, really, what could two old folks in a country home get up to in ways of semantics and morality? In the face of the world?

“No, arms out,” she said, and leaned over him.

“Yer squishin’ me!”

“I’m not.”

“You are!” He could feel the harness against his skin, the one that crossed over her hips, and a wet silicone something slide between his legs simply because it needed a place to go while she was adjusting him. He soldiered on with his complaints. Such a hard life. “Yer squishin’ me.”

“Fine, but arms out.”

With a heavy, resigned sigh he did as he was told, warm all the way to the inside of his chest through it all.

It did feel very good on his back.

Just like it felt very good when she was pressed into him, in a long, wet motion, prying him open in a way he rarely enjoyed in his previous life.

Just like it felt very good when she squished her body atop him, thin but pudgy hips, a wee bit of a belly that could not compete with his beautiful drum, the sag of her breasts on his back when she came round to hug him and thrust into him. The smell of powder and a dandelion oil she liked. He liked it too, actually, but only really on her.

Just like it felt very good when she used him, angled him just so, and managed to rub herself to a squeaky, surprised, happy orgasm and told him he’d been good enough, he could touch himself too.

“Move your leg,” she ordered breathily, tapping the top of his thigh so he’d slide it out of the way and she could try and help. Didn’t…feel as good then. His hip twinged funny and he cursed, rolling them a little. “Oh! Careful!”

The angle, though. Oh, the angle. Hip screaming, little red-nailed claws in his back, a dildo shoved right up his arse, and it hit just right, there, that he smashed his face down and came anyways and that, _that_ felt _very good_.

\---

“You really should do your stretches,” Tracy said, adjusting an ice pack under his naked hips an hour or so later.

“I have.” But a raised eyebrow shut him right up. Maybe. Maybe just a little one, for a start.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Stretches Are Nonsense](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27575014) by [Djapchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djapchan/pseuds/Djapchan)




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